Words and images: Calum Creasey

‘It took me exactly 12 minutes to fit the new alternator. I know because I set my watch down on the tarmac, partly to keep time but also to shield it from the layer of oil that clung to the underside of the rolling home. I was hoping she would hear it ring back to life from where she sat up in the first floor budget hotel room. If I could bottle the feeling, turning the key and hearing it turn over. No warning light on the dash. That afternoon I’d ran out of the parts suppliers, shaking the small box I had in my hands with sheer delight.

Half way through. Half way through and we were tested, not massively, a simple part had failed, left us stranded. We were already on a shoe string budget; gleaned every mile from every cent.

Onwards? I said. Turned to her and smiled. she has this way of turning to me at just the right moments. Spending that amount of time next to someone you know so well. You can feel the times they rest eyes on you.

Nearly 4 months earlier we had both cried tears of joy on the first drive out in the rolling home, with its rebuilt engine. Genuine tears of joy. We felt free again, we were free again. The road opened up before us then, and here it was again. Here we were. Sitting staring at each other, I recall it being an age. I know that’s wrong, it was mere seconds….

Onwards she replied.’